Camel Safari Cut Short

Mr Rocket and Johnny Walker

As we went to sleep last night there seemed to be a million stars floating above us, so close that we could probably have reached out and touched them. The moon rose and was a stunning, large, orange circle which took over the sky, blocked out the light of all but the brightest stars, and made us very aware that there were camels hanging out about five metres from where we were sleeping. We had been guaranteed though that the camels wouldn't harass us and, they didn't.

Setting our beds up near the fire though proved to be a mistake. The puppies and their mother came looking for warmth by the fire and instead, found four tourists just waiting to be cuddled. The four of us spent the majority of the night shooing dogs from out of our beds out of fear of catching any one of the things they were probably carrying. We must have all drifted off to sleep simultaneously at one point though, leaving nobody on watch, because I woke up with the mother dog in bed with me.

And the word 'bed' is really used quite loosely in the desert. Really it means 'thin blanket on the sand.' We all had so many blankets on top of us that we could barely move. Combine that with me being inside my silk sleeping bag in an attempt to limit the dung beetles, lice and fleas that could access me during the night and I was in quite a tangle.

A curious Mr Rocket ridden by Chris

Nobody slept well and Chris, more than anyone, was kept awake by the bright moon and puppy harassment. Only we could manage to be kept up by fluffy puppies in the middle of the desert.

As morning came and we finally did get to sleep we were woken by the guides talking loudly while they went about making chai. They had obviously slept quite well as the dogs, probably regular visitors to the camp, knew better than to climb into bed with the Indians. After our horrid sleep, were not about to agree to another night in the desert. Despite their best efforts to convince us to stay, and the offer of a tent, different sand dunes, the guarantee of no puppies and a phone call with the manager back in Jaisalmer we were still over it. We were especially over it when, the half a bottle of whiskey that Seamus had left next to his bed, had disappeared over night. I couldn't help but assume that the guide who had taken a liking to it last night had pocketed it. When we mentioned it he feigned not hearing or not understanding without batting an eyelid. The resolve or a hardened criminal, or something of the like.

We had a few scraps of toast and a banana for breakfast before we all waited around for the guides to get their act together and saddle up the camels. We had gained two extra tourists during sunrise so that meant two extra camels which meant twice as much time waiting.

Stiff and sore from a night on the sand, with our bags and shoes damp from the cold, desert air, we unexcitedly climbed aboard our camels for the final time. And as our legs and butts ached almost instantaneously we were satisfied with our decision to cut short the safari.

After only about half an hour we spotted the jeep up ahead and, when given the opportunity to get in the jeep or continue riding some, every one of us went with the jeep option. We were sore, it was cold, and the whole experience had taken on a laughable quality.

Khaba Fort outside Jaisalmer

On the way back to Jaisalmer we were taken via Khaba Fort. The fort itself looked quite new thanks to what we assume was reconstruction work. The fort overlooked an intriguing, crumbling, ancient city which juxtaposed against the perfectly formed fort. Over 1000 years old (apparently) and abandoned 250 years ago when it was cursed, the collapsing stone work of the old houses was quite mesmerising, as were the peacocks which fluttered around as we watched.

Chris looked, and felt, like death warmed up as we approached Jaisalmer on the bumpy road in the jeep. When we finally arrived back at Trotters we were not in any mood to fight for a refund. Thankfully though, in an attempt to maintain their good TripAvisor rating, we were offered a refund without request. We got a full day's worth of money back, grabbed Big Red, said goodbye to our Scottish mates and went straight back to Oasis hoping we could get the same room as a few nights earlier. While we had no luck getting into our favourite room with the piping hot shower, we got another room and were happy enough.

Before even bothering to shower we went on the hunt for snacks which turned into lunch at a very, very local establishment. Flies swarmed, men stood around and watched us and we ordered up a mixed veg curry, veg biriyani and chapati. We also ended up with a huge naan which prompted us to order yet more curry. A very clever ploy on their behalf we thought.

Back at the guesthouse we braved the luke warm shower then lazed about for a few hours before we were hungry enough to head out again. This time we went in search of Free Tibet, the actual restaurant we had tried to find the other night. They didn't have meat but, despite our iron cravings, we did enjoy some veg momos and a veg pizza before returning home.